Page 165
Riven kisses the word from my lips.
I feel it pounding through me.
Nightshade, nightshade, nightshade.
A word that once symbolized death and to stop, now symbolizes life and to keep growing.
As husband and wife.
As king and queen.
The crowd cheers, Arkyn’s whoops louder than most clapping.
Thunder rattles the ground, and the skies open up.
All around us, the rain washes away the glittering sick of the blight. And in its place, lavender grows, scenting the air with relief. I have half a mind to wonder if it’s a gesture from Eliana. Her way of thanking me for loving her son, for sending the male who murdered her to an early grave. For giving her the chance to seek her justice in the afterlife.
“We did it!” Riven exclaims, picking me up and spinning me around. He kisses me and kisses me and kisses me until it’s hard to breathe, and then he kisses me some more. “The pain… It’s gone.”
I touch the back of his neck, feeling for the shape of the rune, but all I find is smooth, wet skin.
I’m giddy as I confirm, “The curse is broken.”
“Curse?” barks one of the lords. “What curse?”
I ignore him.
Though worry swirls in the depths of Riven’s eyes.
With the bond between us no longer inhibited by his mother’s curse, Riven’s thoughts slam into me, running wild with fear. I reach for the thread between us, the one tethering us as mates, and stroke it gently. I’ve always heard mates could mind speak to one another… so I give it a go.
What’s wrong, my love?
He straightens, looks down at me. What if fae magic hasn’t returned to its normal strength and only the visual representation of the blight has faded?
Well, there’s one way to find out.
I pull out of his arms and cross the muddy clearing to whisper in Carver’s ear. He nods once and then does as I ask, carefully closing the distance between him and Arkyn.
Carver glances at me, calls out, “You sure about this?”
“It’s only fair.”
I wink at Avaline, who covers her mouth with her hand as Carver punches Arkyn in the face.
Arkyn howls, clutching his nose. “What the fuck was that for?”
“Ava’s brother.”
A strike like that would’ve broken his nose. Again. If the curse isn’t entirely gone… his face will be a bloody and bruised mess.
“Ark,” Riven says tightly. “Drop your hand.”
He does.
And he’s… healed. No sign of Carver’s retribution in sight. Just smooth, bronze skin.
Is that confirmation enough for you, grandsire?
